


Pathetic Baby Boy

by vesuviannights



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dominant Reader, F/M, M/M, Submissive Julian, female reader with a strap on, gender neutral reader, male reader - Freeform, pathetic little baby boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 10:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesuviannights/pseuds/vesuviannights
Summary: Julian Devorak is always somewhat of a blustering mess, but when he's pinned beneath you and begging for your cock - he can't remember a single word in any of the 7 languages he knows.





	Pathetic Baby Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the smutty drabble game on my Tumblr (@vesuviannights). The prompt was "fuck me like the worthless little cocksleeve I am, please!".

“Please! _Please_ , please fuck me like the worthless little cocksleeve I am—”

Julian is writhing beneath you, an absolute fucking mess of a man who barely managed to spit out those 12 words before regressing back to his incoherent whimpering. His pale hips, turned up toward you with his face pressed into the silk of your sheets, tremble beneath your hands. Your touch is a ghost of affection, tracing constellations with the tiny freckles there, and he keens at even the chance that your touch will go just a little further down and put him out of his misery.

“Twelve whole words, Ilya,” you murmur softly, tilting your head as you tilt your hips. “I’m so proud of you. It took you so many hours, but you got there. You used your words like a good little boy.”

He shivers at your words, and the tips of his ears flush pink as the corners of his lips crook upward at your praise. In reward, you press the length of your cock into the crease of his ass, sliding it there but never quite pushing in. He yelps and shifts back into you; his knuckles turn white, pulling the sheets from where they’re tucked into the mattress.

“Will—will you fuck me?” He asks; the lilt of hope there, the suggestion that he will literally collapse into a sobbing mess if you event hit at a ‘no’, makes heat and satisfaction pool in your stomach.

“Oh, Ilya,” you sigh.

“Please?” He asks. It’s barely above a whisper.

“Of course I will, baby. Now hush, be a good boy while I fuck you, or someone will hear you. Do you want someone to hear you?”

He trembles beneath you as you position your cock at his tight little ring.

“N—no—”

You lean in and twist your fingers in his hair, yanking at it to murmur into his ear.

“I didn’t think so.”

And then you thrust into him.


End file.
